Everything's Going to be Okay
by Emador
Summary: One of the newsies struggles with depression. One-shot [repost; originally published summer 2015]


_Author's Note: I wrote this story in the summer of 2015, but had subsequently taken it down when I found out there had been other sites mirroring . Luckily that has passed, and I will be reposting all of my old stories! My apologies to my followers who will be bombarded with "New Story/Chapter" alerts. Enjoy!_

* * *

"Everything's going to be okay," they say. Going to be. Even they admit that things are not okay. But they have faith that someday things will be okay. That's the difference between me and them.

"What's wrong, Skitts?" they ask.

"I don't know," I respond.

They shake their head and roll their eyes.

"What's the matter with you?" they say.

"Glum and dumb," they say.

"Lighten up," they say.

If it were only that easy.

I walk down the street wondering if they'd be better off without me. If their lives would be better if they didn't have me dragging them down. If they would even mind if I was gone.

Then she walks up to me.

"Hey Skitts," she grins.

"Hey," I say.

"Want to go watch the horses at Sheepshead?"

"Nah," I shrug.

"Want to go watch the ships come in?"

"Nah," I shrug.

"Want to go take a walk in the Park?"

"Nah," I shrug. Third time. This is usually the time people shrug and walk away. Or they say "well, what do YOU want to do?" Or they sigh and tell me to cheer up.

But not her.

She just takes me hand and continues walking with me. I don't even know where we're going, but she just follows. Most of the time I'd rather walk by myself. I'd rather be alone with my thoughts. I look down at our hands, her fingers intertwined with mine. He forearm touching mine.

I look over at her and she's smiling. Why is she smiling? There is nothing to smile about on the Lower East Side. It's filthy, there are people everywhere, dirty kids are running around, shady men stand on the corner, just waiting to mug you.

She looked over at me and catches me staring at her.

"Enjoyin' the view?" she asks.

I feel the corners of my mouth pull up almost involuntarily. "Always."

She grins at me. That smile. I would do anything to see her smile like that at me. That smile is like a sunset after a thunderstorm, when the sun peaks between the clouds and the horizons, making all the colors beautiful and brilliant.

"Come on, let's go watch the ships come in," I say.

"Really?" she grins bigger.

I nod and make a U-turn with her, heading back to the lowest tip of Manhattan.

* * *

"Thanks for today," she tells me later as we're sitting on the lodging house rooftop. Her head is resting on my shoulder. I love how she fits right by my side when my arm is around her. "I mean it. Thank you."

She gets it. She knows. She knew I didn't want to go watch the ships come in. And I knew she would be happy just walking aimlessly around town with me. She wants to make me happy just as much as I want to make her happy. The only difference is that it's possible to make her happy.

I kiss the top of her head. "You're welcome."

We sit in silence.

"I wish I understood," I tell her. "My brain feels so full…like one person isn't supposed to feel this much or think this much."

She doesn't say anything. She just listens.

"It was like I woke up one morning and lost something special, but I couldn't remember what. Like someone I love died, but everyone was still around."

I expect her to shake her head. I expect her to roll her eyes. I expect her to tell me that she doesn't get me, that I've got my friends and that should be enough to cheer me up.

But she doesn't. She just looks up at me and kisses me on the cheek.

Then, the floodgates open. I start talking. My words don't follow a logical progression; I just let them out. Inexplicably, it helps. The words are my pain and when they come out, the pain comes out. The words, and my pain, hang in the air and disappear. Talking to her lets the pain my leave my body. It's not much, but it helps. She takes my pain and makes it her own.

That last thought alone makes me shut my mouth.

"Why'd you stop talkin'?" she asked.

"You don't want to hear all this."

"Sure I do."

"Why?"

"Coz you're my friend."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

I shrug.

"Well, why are you my friend?" she asks.

I look down at her. Because seeing her is like a cold drink of water on a hot day. Because when she holds my hand, I feel like I can take on the world. Because buying one dinner for her is worth the week it takes me to save up for it. Because she makes me want to stay alive.

She smirks at my silence. "See? It ain't so easy to answer a question like that."

"Why would someone like you ever choose to be with someone like me?" I as her.

"I'm only after your money," she winks at me. She leans up and presses her lips against mine. I hold her tighter, deepening the kiss. I kiss her for every time I know my depression hurts her. I kiss her for every time she has to go off and have fun without me because I'm moping around the lodging house. I kiss her for all the times I wish I could be the happy, fun-loving boyfriend she deserves.

She pulls back a fraction of an inch and rests her forehead against mine.

"Everything is going to be okay," she says.

When she says it, I believe her.


End file.
